


Thursday

by slyferris (Ethsei)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethsei/pseuds/slyferris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a Thursday when it first happens, and when Sehun finds this out later he laughs, because he should have known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic mentions of self-harm. Apathy sucks.

 

 

It’s a Thursday when it first happens, and when Sehun finds this out later he laughs because he should have known.

Bad things always happen on a Thursday.

So of course the first time Sehun drags the nearest sharp object across his thigh, biceps tensed, it’s a _Thursday._

 

*

 

The first time someone notices something is wrong, it’s a Thursday, and Sehun is so sick of the word he could vomit.

It’s Luhan who first says something, of course.

“Why don’t you change with us anymore?”

He laughs and it feels so plastic that he wants to burn it off and watch it melt.

“I’m self-conscious, I guess.”   

Luhan’s eyes are big and wide and so fucking innocent that it tears something in Sehun’s chest. “But you’re fine the way you are,” he says with a furrowed brow, and Sehun smiles but he knows it’s not true, because if he were fine his legs wouldn’t be bleeding.

 

*

 

Sehun fantasizes about being caught. He imagines warm arms circling his waist and comforting words dropped into his ear as they both cry. He dreams about everyone pleading with him to stop. He dreams he asks for help.

But he covers his legs with bandages by himself while everyone sleeps.

 

*

 

Exo come back together to live in the same dorm to promote Growl. Unlike Baekhyun and Chanyeol who preen at the attention, Sehun searches for a moment of privacy with baited breath and twitching fingers. He finds it in on the cool bathroom tiles at four in the morning.

The summer air floats through the window and he _breathes._

 

*

 

He stabs into his leg and _pulls._ He sets his alarm for five in the morning and peels the blood soaked pants and sheets off, the stick re-opening the wounds. He cuts himself again because he’s bleeding anyway. He wakes up to blood stained sheets and a dizzy head.

He does his own washing these days, before the sun even has time to come up.   

 

*

 

Tao corners him in the doorway of Sehun’s bedroom in a huff, arms crossed and lips pouted. “Why don’t you ever shower with me anymore? You used to always—“

Sehun slams the door shut in his face. His fingers tangle through his bleach blonde hair (fake) and he _pulls_ and _screams._

It comes out silent but his throat feels like it’s tearing apart.

He leaves the room with a thin slash of a smile and apologies spiraling from his lips.  

 

*

 

The first time someone finds out, yes, of course, it’s Thursday.

For the amount of times he’s imagined someone walking in, it doesn’t turn out at all like he’d expected. He envisioned tears and comforting words and long hugs filled with promises to _please stop because we love you._

It’s none of this. It’s disgust and confusion, and a cold silence Sehun feels right in his bones.

Sehun feels himself break in two as he stares back at Kai who can’t even say a word when he walks in at two in the morning, and Sehun’s kicking himself for not remembering to lock the door.  

“What—what the _fuck_ are you _doing?”_ his voice comes hollow and breathy.

Sehun thought he would break down in tears the first time someone found out, but instead his blood turns to ice and he feels his emotions shutting down and his tongue ready to spit poison.  

“If you tell someone I’ll cut so deep that no-one will be able to stitch me up.”

Kai turns white and slams the door shut.

Neither of them bring it up.

 

*

 

Sehun wakes up at three a.m. and holds a butcher knife to his wrist. He heaves in gasps of air and pushes as hard as he can without breaking the skin. The blood boils in his veins and itches to spill from the surface and he wonders what it would feel like to disappear.

 He puts the knife down and falls asleep crying.

 

*

 

He knows they talk about him when he’s not there.

Sometimes he hears them whisper his name through the walls, but they never both once to step around the barrier and ask him about it.

He knows they know he knows.

And they know he knows they know.

And nobody says a word.  

 

Sehun breaks.


End file.
